Interview
by Mayumi Takanashi
Summary: When the identity of the Batman is revealed to Gotham City, Jonathan Watts, Professor of Psychology at Gotham University and specialist in the "superhero complex" is granted the interview he was waited for his entire life.
1. Part I

"**Interview"**

**Part I**

**By Mayumi Takanashi**

_Disclaimer:_ I do not, in any way, profit from this story. All characters are the property of DC Comics.

"_There are men so godlike, so exceptional, that they naturally, by right of their extraordinary gifts, transcend all moral judgment or constitutional control. There is no law which embraces men of that caliber: they are themselves law." –Aristotle_

As my taxi driver rounded the corner of Fifth Street, the sight of the architecturally unimpressive Gotham City Police Headquarters came into view. The street itself was nothing out of the ordinary. There was a pizza parlor across the way, a florist beside that, and pharmacist at the end. I noticed the bakery next door and watched with irritation as three GCPD officers stuffed their faces greedily with donuts and hot coffee.

However, the events taking place along that street were anything but ordinary. In fact, these proceedings were of particular interest to me, for that is what brought me down into this god-forsaken place anyway.

Cameras and reporters had amassed at the entrance to the headquarters, shouting questions and orders back and forth. A hoard of Gotham citizens were also present at this jamboree, whispering to one another and trying to get a peak inside those closed doors. I could feel the tension in the air, even before I stepped out of the car. Nonetheless, I was prepared to meet the throng head-on as soon as I'd heard the news. After all, the whole situation was inevitable.

I handed the cab driver a twenty and grabbed for the handle of the door. Stepping into the hazy daylight of Gotham City, I inhaled a deep breath and prepared for what was next.

"Excuse me," I muttered, pushing my way through the mass of onlookers. Every single one of these damned spectators didn't even realize what was going on. Sure, they knew what had happened, but did they truly understand the implications? Their ignorance only frustrated me.

"Hey, it's Professor Watts, from Gotham University!" cried a reporter. So much for entering unnoticed.

"I'm here live with Professor Jonathan Watts, Professor of Psychology at Gotham University," she said urgently to the rolling camera. "What have you to say on this situation?"

I was taken by displeasure as she shoved her microphone in my face.

"No comment," I growled, pushing my way further into the frenzy.

The same experience happened about twenty more times before I could finally get up to the policemen on crowd control. These reporters were ravenous to get even a scrap of information on the biggest upset in Gotham City's history. The upset that drew me from my cramped, stuffy office in the psychology building (I fondly call it my Cave. Seems almost ironic, considering the present circumstances).

I show my I.D. to the first officer I can reach, who moves the barricade for me to pass through. With a sigh of relief, I begin the journey into the Gotham City Police Headquarters, beginning with my ascension up the stairs toward the dark, looming doors of the building.

My name is Jonathan Watts, Professor of Psychology at Gotham University. I specialize in what I have dubbed "the superhero complex;" I study the psychology of America's most beloved protectors of the people. There is a lot of background behind what makes these men and women who they are, and that is what I have dedicated my life to understanding. It's fascinating, really, the psychology behind these superheroes. So many questions lie deep within their subconscious. That is my life's work: to understand the nature of the modern-day superhero.

Ever since the days of my childhood I've been in the pursuit of understanding my idols. Once a month I would hop on the city bus to the downtown comic book shop. It was there that I would splurge on the latest comic book releases, which is where the majority of my small allowance was invested in. When I got a little older I would do yard work, clean out garages, or help out with other manual labor around the old neighborhood. I soon as pay day rolled around, I would catch that bus, money in my pocket. My fingers itched to open the pages to the world of the superhero and delve into their lives. This childhood obsession has lasted with me to this day. It is due to my mania that I find myself entering the headquarters of Gotham PD at this very moment.

I come here today seeking out the knowledge that has driven my very existence. I yearn to understand why these men are so superior; why God has chosen them as our protectors. At last I have been granted the singular opportunity to interview one of the most mystifying and enthralling characters of our time. As I walk the white corridors of the GCPD headquarters, my heart begins pounding, anticipating the climax of my career. Today, I will sit down with a private interview with the Dark Knight himself, the _Batman_.

Ever since Commissioner Jim Gordon was replaced with the ruthless Michael Akins, the police department's top priority has been the capture of the Batman. With no tolerance for vigilantes, Akins put the capture of the Batman above even that of the Joker. The result is one that both fascinates me and disturbs me.

After a forensics team analyzed the blood samples from a crime scene, the results of the testing were sent to a detective within the police department. After seeing the name of a man that shouldn't have been involved with the case, the detective took it to Akins with the claim that he may have discovered the identity of the Batman. After further investigation, the true identity of the Batman was finally revealed to be a man that shocked the entire country: multibillionaire playboy Bruce Wayne.

I was surprised that his identity took this long to uncover, considering today's advanced technological equipment. At the same time, however, I was also shocked that the Batman had allowed a simple forensics test to reveal a question years in the making. He was always a genius at covering his tracks, but I suppose even a superhero can't win the battle against modern science. As excited as I was to learn the answer to one of the century's foremost mysteries, I was incredibly disappointed in my fellow man in taking away what this goddamned city needs most: a hero.

The Batman has been one of the most intriguing characters of study in my fifteen-year career. While he has been placed among the top standings among the superheroes, he never displayed any sort of superhuman powers. I've always admired this caped crusader, whose ingenuity and inner strength made him who he was. To me he has always been an inspiration even more so than the likes of Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, the Flash, and so on. While they too were an inspiration to the youth of America, the Batman stands foremost as a hero. To think that an average human being, born without any particular outstanding powers, could one day be the protector of the Gotham City people or even a member of the original seven founding members of the Justice League of America. It should serve as inspiration for us all to become something great, even if on the surface we are not.

But the shock of my life came when the news of the Batman's true identity was revealed. I was grading a poor excuse of a thesis on Freud in my office, with the radio turned on for background listening. Just as I was losing all faith in humankind (as I marked the paper with a big F in red ink), the news of Bruce Wayne's façade was announced.

Bruce Wayne? I was highly amused at first, and it took a few minutes of laughter before the message sunk in. In fact, the persona of Bruce Wayne was the perfect guise for a character like the Batman. So different are the two that it's a perfect dichotomy. I'm almost surprised no one figured it out before.

Bruce Wayne. Multibillionaire born with a silver spoon in his mouth. His father founded Wayne Industries, which uses top scientists and engineers to create the top technology in the world. While a respected patron of various charities and scientific research, Bruce Wayne was always seen as a ridiculous playboy only interested in two things: parties and women. His reputation made him a mockery among many circles.

Exactly the opposite of the Batman. _Exactly_. The Batman has no time for play or humor. He goes in, gets the job done quick and without a fuss. He is intelligent, resourceful, and powerful both inside and out. Bruce Wayne isn't exactly renowned for those qualities. But now, upon further contemplation, it makes absolute, perfect sense.

At last I reach the door, where I know the Batman lies in wait. I stop before I enter, becoming unsure of myself. It is common human psychology to feel a sense of loss after obtaining a long sought-after goal. My personal interview with the Batman was one of mine. But this day had to come sooner or later. It was inevitable that we meet, face to face.

I show my I.D. once again to another officer, who stands guard at the entrance of the interrogation room. Without hesitation, he opens the door and gestures for me to cross the threshold. As I reluctantly stepped through the doorway, I felt as if I was entering the next stage of my career. I was about to make a breakthrough in human psychology. Although I felt that excitement once again, I also sensed that I was reaching the end in a way.

Immediately I noticed that the room was quite dim. Shadows seemed to creep along the walls, watching my every move. As I blinked I realized it was my imagination playing mind tricks. Was it fear that was the source of these demons?

A single lamp shone over a table, revealing two chairs in its soft, white glow. I couldn't help but think to myself that the scene before me was so very film noir. One of these chairs was unoccupied, while the other was filled. I was standing before Bruce Wayne. I was standing before the Batman.


	2. Part II

**"Interview"**

**Part II**

**By Mayumi Takanashi**

_Disclaimer:_ I do not, in any way, profit from this story. All characters belong to their original creators and are the property of DC Comics.

            "Please, professor, have a seat," gestured Mr. Wayne toward the empty chair. I found it a little paradoxical at being asked to take a seat by a prisoner, but I obliged anyway.

            As I took to the chair, I examined Mr. Wayne's countenance closely. He adorned an orange jumpsuit, which seemed to me out of place on such a celebrity as he. His black hair was tousled, but despite his physicality at the present moment he seemed very much at ease and confident. He sat back in his chair, very much relaxed, with his hands folding self-assuredly on his crossed leg. Classic Bruce Wayne. I couldn't help but smile a little at the balls this guy had.

            "I'm glad to meet your acquaintance, Professor Watts," Wayne began. "I was hoping you'd come to see me."

            "Well, Mr. Wayne, you graciously invited me," I replied with a nod. "How could a man with my career refuse an interview with…the Batman."

            I stumbled over those last words. I felt hesitant to place this cherished label on a man of Wayne's reputation.

            "Please, professor, call me Bruce."

            "Alright, Bruce, what can I do for you?"  

            He gave a small smile, turning his head from me. His eyes were lowered, and he no longer had his confident composure. Instead, there was a certain sense of sadness and loss about him. The fallen knight.

            "Well, since I can no longer maintain my position as Batman, I thought it time to share my secrets with another. No holds barred. Just the straight truth."

            I stared at him. "Why me?" I felt my voice come across meek, and I hated myself at that moment.

            He looked back at me with those blue, piercing eyes. I admit that they frightened me a little.

            "Because, professor," he began seriously, "because you understand."

            I was surprised to hear him say that.

            "Okay, what do you want to talk about," I asked, wanting to change the subject off of me.

            "Anything. Everything. Ask me anything you want to know. I've got forever."

            I sat back in my chair, my arms crossed and a frown on my face. Right now I had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ask the Batman himself anything I so desired, and my mind went blank. I came here with so many questions whirring through my mind, and of course fate would have it that I came up with nothing at the time it mattered most.

            "Well," I began slowly, tracing my fingers along the line of my chin, "I suppose I should start with the most predictable question: Why did you become a crime fighter in the first place?"

            I soon as I saw that grin cross Wayne's mouth, I wanted to smack myself in the face. My question was so conventional, so…_boring_. At last I was acquainted with that sensation of being only two feet tall.

            "Come on, professor," Wayne chuckled. "You're the expert on hero psychology. I would think you'd be the one to tell me that."

            "Usually," I replied, squirming for a recovery, "there is a defining event in a man's life that determines whether they turn to heroism or villainy. What was your defining event, Bruce?"

            He could sense my squirming, I could feel it. Instantly the slight grin on his expression was wiped away. At first I thought it was because he pitied my trepidation, but then I saw that melancholy storm cloud cross his face. I shouldn't have been surprised, since most often the case that the "defining events" in superheroes' lives are quite sad, but at the same time I'd never taken Bruce Wayne to be the reflective type. Then again, I'd never taken Bruce Wayne to be the Batman type, either.

            "My 'defining event,'" he whispered, staring at the table distantly.

            "You know what I mean, then?" I asked.

            "I promised you no holds barred," he replied, resting his arms on the table. He looked at me strangely with those intense blue eyes again. 

            "I take it this experience is something you don't talk about very often," I said.

            "Yes, but I'm going to tell you anyway," he began. "My parent's deaths."

            "Ah," I whispered. I must admit, I wasn't quite familiar with the personal life of Bruce Wayne, but now that he mentioned it I recalled knowing that fact about him.

            "My parents were murdered when I was only a boy. We were leaving a play when a mugger came up to us and demanded our valuables. The guy was real jumpy and just pulled the trigger on both my parents. I was the lucky one."

            "Did you ever find out who the killer was?" I asked.

            "No."

            "Yes, I see," I muttered, my mind going into overdrive. "Your unfulfilled desire to apprehend your parents' deaths was your driving motivation. This underlying psychological need manifested into your persona as the crime fighter, Batman."

            Suddenly I felt his eyes on me, and I realized I was thinking aloud again. Instantly I shut my mouth and silence fell over the two of us.

            "I suppose you're right," Wayne replied. I was surprised at his simplistic description of the brutal murder of his parents, but then again I remembered that this was a painful experience and most likely didn't want to go into detail. It was probably a good time to change the subject.

            "Why a bat?" I asked simply.

            "Because I fear bats," he replied.

            "I don't quite follow."

            "All my life I've been terrified of bats, professor," Wayne began. "Chiroptophobia, I believe you call it in psychological terms."

            "A very common phobia," I replied. "An irrational fear derived from the medieval Christian association of bats with the Devil."

            "Yes. I wanted my persona to strike fear in the hearts of my enemies. I wanted them to fear _me_. It seemed only logical that I become what I myself feared. I used this fear, overcame it, and I'm sure you can deduce the rest."

            "Fascinating," I responded. "Very few people have been able to convert their fears into power. But that still leaves me wondering why you've come to adorn a dark bat suit while your colleagues dress in bright, heroic colors."

            "For one, bright and flashy is not my personal style," said Wayne. This made me chuckle. I noticed that he, too, had a hint of a smile. "And two," he continued, "I wanted to be able to blend into the night, since that's when I was 'on duty,' so to speak. It's pretty hard to hide out in the shadows when you're wearing bright red and blue."

            "You have a point," I agreed. "I guess a flashy suit doesn't exactly strike terror in a criminal's heart. Makes it hard to be taken seriously. But are aesthetic purposes your only reason, because I find that a little hard to believe."

            "Well," started Wayne, "I suppose I'm not one for the limelight, at least, not as Batman. I get enough of the media as Bruce Wayne. All these other heroes seem to be looking for glory or acceptance from society or whatever their personal reasons are. Personally, I don't care if the public accepts me. That's never been my intent."

            "You just care about keeping their streets safe at night."

            "I just don't want what happened to me to happen to somebody else."

            At this point, so many questions were buzzing in my mind, each competing to escape my lips. Perhaps Wayne sensed this confusion.

            "I'm surprised you didn't bring a recorder or a notebook, professor," he interjected.

            "You're not some sort of case study, Wayne, you're a human being. I'm just sitting down to chat with a colleague."

            I was surprised at what I'd just said. He did too, apparently, judging by the wide-eyed expression on his face. This expression suddenly changed to that of relief.

            "It's nice to be reminded that I am only a human being," he said quietly.

            "And human beings have feelings," I started. "Oftentimes, this situation of dual identities causes the superhero to feel isolated and alone from the rest of society. This results in them pushing others away. But there have been people in your past that have discovered your identity, am I correct?"

            "Yes," he replied. "Over the years there have been the rare occasions that people have discovered my identity. Robin and Batgirl know, of course. The Justice League knows my identity, which is policy really. And a select few have been let into the fold out of necessity. But just because my identity has been revealed, I won't be giving theirs away so readily."

            "Fair enough," I said with a shrug.

            "I'm sorry, professor, I didn't mean to get defensive."

            "That's alright," I replied. "But I'm assuming that your butler… oh, what's his name?"

            "Alfred?"

            "Yes, Alfred. I'm assuming that Alfred was in on this the whole time?"

            "Yes."

            "He's the only man that you've been able to place your trust fully throughout your years as the Batman?"

            "Yes, he's been indispensable as my confidant and my friend."

            "And a father-figure?" I asked.

            "Well," said Wayne, slightly taken aback. "Well, yes, I suppose."

            "I've found over the years, Wayne, that superheroes usually have a single person whom they select to place their trust into. This person's role is to keep the hero in check, making sure they do not stray from their original intention, who is there as a reminder of what they stand for. You follow me, Wayne?"

            "Yes, professor."

            "And this was Alfred's role, correct?"

            He looked at me hard. "You're good."

            I laughed. "Thanks. But I also have another question."

            "That is why we're here."

            "Right," I nodded. "This sense of loneliness and isolation that I've spoken of. Do you think that these emotions that lie within each superhero are a major contributor to the formation of the Justice League?"

            Wayne sat back in his chair. I could see his mind beginning to work as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes, staring distantly again at the table, were pensive.

            "You know," I said hesitantly. I felt as if I was interrupting a private moment within himself. "Superheroes have a hero complex. They feel that it is their sole duty to be the protectors of the people. But in a way, their extra-ordinary position leads them to believe that they alone are the only ones who can save the day in the end. Yes, this leads to loneliness, but in a sense it's also a matter of pride."

            "Perhaps," replied Wayne. "And perhaps this sense of isolation is the bond that holds the Justice League together. Maybe it is a combination of pride and loneliness. I can't really wrap my head around it right now, professor."

            "I understand," I responded. I watched him closely before saying another word. It felt like the wrong time to continue with my questioning before he'd had the chance to sort out his ideas on the Justice League. As he sat back in his chair, deep in meditation on the subject, I began to let my own mind begin to work. I'd examined the Justice League throughout the course of my career since its establishment. At first I'd doubted the success of the Justice League at first. The superhero is a person that is used to independence and freedom from constitutional restraint. They feel a certain respect for the law, but in most cases they subconsciously feel superior to the law, or that they are the very embodiment of the law. When the Justice League was first formed, I had my reservations about a team of superheroes, who were no longer independent and who now had to answer to the League's own set of laws. The fact that the Justice League has remained a stable organization today has pleasantly surprised me. So the Justice League had proven that our heroes could answer to a higher authority. Superheroes can be controlled by their own institutions. They trusted the League. But that lead me to another question.

            "How can the people of Earth be sure that we can trust the Justice League?" I asked suddenly.

            Wayne seemed almost startled to be woken from his thoughts. He stared back at me with an odd expression, trying to decide how to answer my statement.

            "There has been much speculation over the years," I exclaimed, "that the Justice League is an organization with too much power concentrated in one place. A country like America, especially, whose government is purposefully set up to spread the power among many branches of government, would naturally have reservations about a society such as the League."

            "I also had reservations about the League too, professor," responded Wayne. This most certainly surprised me.

            "How so?"

            "I agree," explained Wayne. "I too felt that getting a bunch of people together with superpowers was probably not the best idea in the world. Too much testosterone among the men, and for the women a great desire to prove themselves as equals. Add super abilities into the mix and you've got a recipe for disaster. Having no extraordinary powers myself, I wasn't used to this amount of superior ability. Humankind naturally distrusts the unknown, and I'm no exception in this case. I distrusted the viability of the League."

            "So you're saying that the world distrusts the League because they do not understand it?"

            "Yes," replied Wayne.

            "Although I think the fact that the Justice League could destroy the earth within the span of an hour is a frightening concept in of itself.

            "But you have to have faith in the League. The moment the world turns against the Justice League, it will dissolve. It can't survive without the trust of the people to whom it is dedicated to protecting."   

            "Trust, huh?" I asked, more to myself than to Wayne. Again we both withdrew into ourselves to contemplate these questions. Throughout my years studying the Batman in the newspapers and news broadcasts, I'd never taken the Dark Knight to be one for trust. A man who hides behind a mask and operates removed from society clearly has trust issues. But I could see his point.

            This matter of trust brought me onto another subject.

            "I want to ask you about Robin," I stated simply.

            "Robin?" repeated Wayne. "Sure, what about him."

            "There's been speculation that the role of Robin has been held by more than one person. It is also a well known fact that Bruce Wayne has taken on three wards throughout his lifetime. There wouldn't happen to be any correlation there, would it?"

            "Yes, I suppose I can't disguise that, can I," Wayne smiled faintly. He seemed almost weary to me. Not from our conversation, I thought, but from the whole situation that had spanned the past few weeks.

            "So the first Robin was a young man by the name of…oh, what was it again?"

            "Dick Grayson," he answered.

            "Why did you take him on in the first place? What was his story?"

            "I took Dick in after his family had been murdered as a result of greedy mobsters. Right in front of him. They were acrobats at the circus, including Dick."

            "So you took him in after his parents had been murdered before his very eyes. Sounds awfully similar to your story, Wayne," I said.

            "Yes, I suppose that had something to do with it."

            "And he had acrobatic training. He seemed like the perfect choice for a sidekick. But why take one on in the first place?"

            "Perhaps it goes back to what you said. Maybe I was just too lonely and isolated from the world."

            I got the sense that, in a way, he was mocking me just a little bit. I didn't dwell on it too much and continued with my questioning.

            "What happened with that? We all know that Robin left to join up with the Teen Titans. Everyone thought he came back, but you and I know differently."

            "Yes, Dick left. He was beginning to grow weary of the same routine, day after day. We argued a lot about his future, where he was headed. He felt he had no control over his own life. When he joined up with the Teen Titans, he no longer needed me anymore. He had his own team to lead; he had people his own age that could identify him more than I ever could."

            "Did you feel like a father figure toward him, like Alfred was for you?" I asked earnestly. Wayne looked up at me, his eyes narrowed in deliberation.

            "No, I didn't, actually," he explained. "At that time, I was only in my twenties, and he was in his late teens. The age gap wasn't wide enough for that, I think. If I had to put a familial label on our relationship, it would be that of brothers."

            "Do you still talk?" I inquired gently.

            "Not as much. No, not really."

            "What about the second Robin?"

            "It was pretty much the same situation. Orphan all alone on the world, living by his wits alone. But Jason wasn't like Dick. He was younger, and more restless. He still had the weight of his parents' murders upon his shoulders. In this business, you really have to come to terms with your past, or you're in for a rough time."

            "And what happened to Jason?"

            At this question, Wayne's eyes grew somber and clouded. Again he resumed his vigil over the table.

            "Wayne?" I asked quietly, after several moments had passed in silence.

            "He died. The Joker killed Jason only an hour after he'd found his birth mother."

            A terrible silence fell between us. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what or how. I turned away from him, feeling that my eyes were intruding upon something private going on within him. I had sensed the horrific bitterness in his tone. Did the public have any idea about the turmoil involved in the seemingly perfect Dynamic Duo? As I had felt when pushing my way past reporters and camera crews outside, a surge of frustration at the ignorance of the Gotham City public rose within me. But now was not the time for my personal feelings on the situation.

            "So, after the tumultuous experiences with the first two, why take on a third?"

            I could see him regain his composure quickly. He still kept his eyes fixated on the table, though.

            "I'm getting older, professor," Wayne stated slowly, wearily. "When I first started out as Batman, I really didn't concern myself with the worry of being killed in action. I suppose it was young foolishness. But after Jason's death, the reality of the business really hit me hard. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was searching for a successor to be the protector of Gotham after I'd gone. Maybe that, or maybe I just wasn't accustomed to being on my own anymore. I needed a partner fighting alongside me."

            "You didn't have a brotherly love for Jason, did you, Bruce," I interrupted. "This time you really did feel like a father."

            "Yeah, I suppose you're right," sighed Wayne. "I was constantly worried about him. He was a good fighter, but he and I weren't locked in like Dick and I were. By taking on more Robins, perhaps I was looking for that perfect partner like Dick."

            "And the third Robin is your current ward, right?"

            "Actually, I've legally adopted Tim. He's my son."

            "What's going to happen to him now?"

            "Tim's a smart kid," smiled Wayne. "He can take care of himself. Besides, he's practically an adult now."

            "And he's the Robin with the improved design of suit?" I asked.

            "Yes. I think it was his way of setting himself apart from the first two. I still think he feels that he needs to live up to the standards set by Dick and Jason. He's constantly searching for comparisons to them."

            "And where does Batgirl fit in to all of this?" I asked. "What's her story?"

            "Batgirl is the daughter of a good friend of the Batman," Wayne said. "She had great courage and spirit about her, but her days of crime fighting are over, thanks to the Joker."

            This time, the expression on his face was not one of sadness, but of anger and bitterness. I felt intimidated by that wrathful fire in his eyes. I wasn't sure how to react.

            "The Joker has taken away a lot from you."

            "Yes, he has," replied Wayne resentfully.

            "This brings me to ask you something I've always wondered about the Batman, Wayne," I said. He looked at me curiously.

            "Go ahead."

            "Why…don't you kill your enemies, even if they deserve to die?"

            "That's not my call to make, professor," Wayne responded. "I'll let them wait until their Judgment Day, but I don't feel that I'm above the law to take another life. It would make me a hypocrite. After experiencing the loss of my own parents, why would I inflict that pain upon somebody else? There's a line that I don't cross, professor, and that is sinking down to the level of the likes of a criminal." 

            "But what about the Joker? Even after all the crimes he's committed, all of the wrongs he done against you personally, you don't kill him. Why?"

            "You know, I've always given the benefit of the doubt to people like the Joker or Two-Face. I've always tried to believe that it was their insanity that led them to do the things they do, and that they couldn't help it. But after the death of Jason, most particularly, I wanted to kill the Joker. I wanted to rip him apart and sent him to Hell in pieces. I'll admit that. But whenever I get to feeling that way, I always remind myself that if I were to do that, I would be no different from the Joker."

            I felt a new level of respect for the Batman that I had never experienced before. Yes, he didn't have any superhuman powers like Superman or Wonder Woman, but he possessed a hero's moral code that any normal human being could never hope to have. That's what made him not only a hero, but ascended him into the godlike ranks of the superheroes we all idolize and revere.

            "What do you think about superheroes, Batman?" I asked suddenly.

            Wayne looked up at me in surprise, and I realized I had just impulsively addressed Bruce Wayne as the Batman.

            "Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, I mean," I stuttered. I felt my face flush red and turned away. I could feel those shooting blue eyes of his penetrating my façade.

            "Let me tell you what I think about the superhero, professor. I think that a true superhero is not a protector of the people just because he can. He's not in it simply due to the mere fact that he's been gifted with extraordinary power. He's not fighting just because he thinks he has the ability to. Nor is he in it for the glory and love of the people. He doesn't want the fame and fortune. No, the true superhero is one because he has placed upon himself an obligation to protect the people, and because he has given himself the duty to do so. It is not his God-given duty; it is not burdened with it by anyone else. Only he can make the choice to give himself the overwhelming responsibility of protecting the people against injustice.

            I couldn't believe this new opinion of the superhero. I had never considered this before in the course of my career. Never before had I actually sat down to formulate my own thesis on what truly makes a superhero. All I was concerned about was the psychology behind the men that society had deemed a superhero. I had never actually made those judgment calls myself. But as I listened to Wayne reveal his own convictions, I felt ridiculous for accepting the word of society. I realized that I could have been told that an elephant was a superhero and I would have gone along with it. At last I grasped the true meaning of a superhero. Society cannot deem who our superheroes are. Nor do I have that power. Only the individual alone can decide if he truly is a superhero. Not consciously, but on the subconscious level. That is the true psychology of the superhero, I thought.

            After that, I felt that I had no further questions of real importance for Mr. Wayne. I sensed the end of the interview, and besides, I don't know if my mind could absorb anything else for the time being. I only had one more question for him, and then I would relieve him of my tedious inquiring.

            "Throughout my career, Mr. Wayne, I've come to learn that superheroes often confuse their true identities with their alias persona. Do you consider yourself Bruce Wayne? Or do you consider yourself to be the Batman?"

            "You know, professor, I've often wondered that very question myself. Both of these people are a part of who I am. I am Bruce Wayne by day, and at night I am Batman. Both are a part of me, but without one or the other I am incomplete."

            "But Gotham knows that your Bruce Wayne playboy persona is a fake," I argued.

            "Sure, what I projected to the world as Bruce Wayne was just a façade," he explained. "But conversely, I was born as Bruce Wayne. That was the name my parents gave me, and that is how they live on. I have an obligation as Bruce Wayne to carry on my family's legacy. I owe it to my family, my company, my charities. And yet, I am not a ridiculous playboy with an affinity for hard partying. That is just what I project to the world to hide the real truth: that _I am Batman_. When I put on that uniform, that is the only time that I can be myself. But I can never live up to the standard that I hold Batman to. That is not who I truly am, either, but who I strive to be. While a balance of these two identities make up who I am, both have been taken from me. Now that my identity is gone, who am I now? What is left, professor?"

            My heart went out to him. He was never Bruce Wayne, and he was never the Batman. His entire identity was based on a false ambiguity. This dual nature of most superheroes often leads them to an identity crisis, which is what has happened to the man sitting before me. I wondered how he lasted this long, putting up a front both day and night, never achieving who he really was. How could a man go through life not being able to be himself at any moment, living with a guarded front every minute of every day.

            "You're giving up the role of the Batman?" I asked, hoping he would contradict my hopes.

            "Yes, professor. It's necessary. I won't be able to operate effectively as Batman anymore. I'll be spending more time protecting myself than actually fighting crime."

            "So, that's it, then?" I asked in frustration, the anger rising within me. "What will happen to Gotham City now that it has no protector?"

            "I think there will be someone else to fill the Batman's shoes. Batman was not the first superhero, nor will he be the last."

            I stood from my chair. Wayne did the same. Over the table we each extended our arms for a handshake. I felt that there was nothing left to say, and so decided to take my leave.

            "Take care, Professor Watts," he exclaimed, a weary grin on his face. I think our examination of the Batman's complex psyche exhausted him.

            "What about you?" I asked. "I know you've been arrested, but the Batman's never been one to be kept in a cage."

            "I have a plan," he whispered with a wink. "I'm glad of this opportunity to talk to you."

            "As am I, Batman," I smiled. He returned my grin.


	3. Part III

**"Interview"**

**Part ****III**

**By Mayumi Takanashi**

_Disclaimer:_ I do not, in any way, profit from this story. All characters belong to their original creators and are the property of DC Comics.

            As I descended the steps of Gotham City Police Headquarters, past the onslaught of probing journalists inquiring after my interview, through the curious, whispering crowd of citizens at the gates, I could only think of my experience within that room.

            At last I understood why he chose me. _"Because, professor, because you understand." _He wanted the opportunity to explain himself to an ordinary citizen of Gotham City. The Batman had zeroed in on me, Jonathan Watts, Ph.D., professor of psychology at Gotham University.

            I never explained why I moved to Gotham City in the first place. Many years ago, when I was just starting out in the field, I'd applied for a teaching position at Gotham University. Why Gotham? The Batman. He was by far the most fascinating case I'd encountered throughout my career. So different from the rest of the classic superheroes of my generation. He was my premier case study. I moved to Gotham so that I could be closer to the superhero I wanted to know the most about. The other superheroes are so easy to analyze, I admit I was beginning to get bored with their psychology. They all followed the same stereotype, and I was yearning for someone to come along that would break the mold. That's when I heard about the Batman.

            Over the years I've collected newspaper clippings, videotapes of news broadcasts, cassettes of radio news programs, anything I could get my hands on. And yet, the Dark Knight kept in the shadow, away from the lights of the media cameras. I'd chosen the Batman, just as he'd chosen me. That's why you can understand how important this interview was for me. This was the climax of my career, of a lifelong obsession.

            Yes, I understand why he chose me. I alone among Gotham's citizens can truly understand the Batman. I've dedicated my life to the study of our world's superheroes and their psychology behind the things they do. My theory is that the Batman asked me here today not only to explain himself to one of the people he was sworn to protect. He wanted me here to not only understand him, but help him understand himself. When a man no longer knows who he is, he has truly lost everything.

            You want to know the real reason why I didn't bring a notepad or a tape recorder? I told the Batman that he was not a patient for my examination and scrutiny, but a colleague of mine merely sitting down for a chat. In a way that was false. I really did see this interview as a psychoanalysis of one of the greatest figures of the century. But I didn't bring any source of documentation of our meeting because I do not intend to repeat my findings and observations to another living soul. Any other psychologist would commit murder for the opportunity to conduct their own study on the Batman. All of the esteemed medical journals would be more than obliging to publish their findings. It would be a scientific breakthrough. But I don't intend to publish any of the information I learned in that room. What took place today in the interrogation room of Gotham City Police Headquarters will remain locked away within forever. I will bury these memories within the recesses of my consciousness so that no one else will ever know what happened between myself and the Batman.

            Climbing into the bright, yellow cab waiting along the curb, I glanced back at the Gotham City Police Headquarters building. I found myself hating the entire department for their crime against humanity. I hated Rojas for replacing Gordon, for making the capture of Batman the city's top priority. I hated the man in a white lab coat, hovering over a microscope in the forensics lab, studying the sample of the Batman's blood. I hate the detective for deducing the identity of the Batman and revealing it to his superiors.

            Watching the swarm of media reporters and camera crews at the gates, I realized my loathing for them as well. I hated them for their exploitation of the Batman for their selfish purposes. A promotion, a news award, money, whatever. Greed was the only driving force in this goddamned city.

            I turned my attention to the throng of whispering onlookers in the courtyard. I hated them just as much for their ignorance. They had no idea where their greedy desire for truth would lead them. Now that they know the identity of the Batman, their lives are about to get a whole hell of a lot worse. No longer will they have their guardian angel watching over them, and it is their own damned faults.

            In fact, I hated society as a whole. A society in love with its own superheroes, but even more in love with their failures. They live for nothing but seeing their hero fall. Everyone loves a martyr.

            As the cab turned off of Fifth Street, I began to wonder of the fate of Gotham City. With the Batman gone, would it go back to the way it used to be? A city full of greed, corruption, drugs, prostitution, gunshots outside your window each night. Men lurking in the shadows awaiting their next victim. Was this truly the inevitable? Or will another step up and acquire the responsibility of the legendary Dark Knight?

            In a way, I hoped things would go back to how they used to be. These people deserved a crime-ridden city life. They deserved to be punished for their cruelty. Without the protection of their beloved Batman, whom they themselves worked to bring down, they would at last realize humanity's dire need for a hero. A man who rises above the scum that our race has become to protect the institutions that don't deserve their courage and valor in the first place. Humankind needs heroes. They need men who have the qualities that the average man lacks; men who transcend the immorality of our kind to become our protectors.

            I realized the harsh criticisms that were going through my mind and thought back to my conversation with the Batman. He told me that he was in no positions to make judgment calls on fellow human beings, and I thought to myself that maybe I should take his advice. Who am I to judge society, when I am but a mere part of it? Perhaps I fancied myself superior to those ignorant bystanders outside GCPD Headquarters. It was a matter of isolation from society, a matter of pride. I was reverting back to that childhood desire to ascend into the ranks of my cherished comic book superheroes.

            What really got me emotionally was the fact that none of my thoughts had ever even crossed the mind of the Batman. All he wanted was to be a protector of the people of his beloved city. He asked for nothing in return. While he claimed to not care about being accepted, I felt that the interview that he called with me was part of his underlying desire for approval from the people. He talked about the Justice League not being able to function without the faith of the people, and I think the same truth holds true for the individual superhero. For a man who had reached the end of his career, the Batman was searching for a validation to his years of service. The man needed a sense of closure to this chapter in history.

            As my cab took off down the dark streets of Gotham City, I had no idea of the consequences of the Batman's departure from his nights of crime fighting. I did not know that I would retire from my studies on the "superhero complex" and leave Gotham University behind me. I did not know that the figure of Bruce Wayne would disappear from the city after escaping the clutches of the police department. I had no idea that there was a successor lying in wait at that very moment to take his place as Gotham's protector. All I knew was I felt just as lost as the man sitting in that room.


End file.
